Some perspective

There are a lot of things that I encounter in my life in Vietnam that make me feel guilty, in that they make me aware of my privilege. They come in little bits, like Hansel and Gretel's breadcrumbs, leading me to a gradual realization of what it means to be an American in a global context.

I mentioned in the past that my students have remarked that the food at the canteen is both bland and overpriced, the latter of which is hard for me to perceive since the difference between overpriced and reasonable is usually less than twenty five cents. I also mentioned (I think) that I appreciated my room a lot more when I found out that it is normally shared by eight students. I become aware of my privilege when none of my students and even most of my fellow teachers have never been on an airplane. Paying seventy-some dollars for the airfare to Da Nang seemed like a great deal. Talking to my students at English club last night, talk turned to rent. Those who live in the dormitories in eight-person rooms pay 50,000 VND ($2.50) per month. Those who live in the slightly nicer boarding house off campus pay 200,000 VND ($10) per month. No matter how you cut the cake, just the airfare for my weekend trip, not taking into account all the other expenses, would have paid for my students' housing for more or less an entire school year. And then I understand why none of them have been on a plane, and how much I have. The bus to HCMC cost me 70,000 VND ($3.50). There and back becomes almost 3 months or 1 depending on the housing option. And I understand why so few of my students have been there, and how much I have. Then I think about the travel I plan on doing, more or less twice a month, and what that means, what that translates to in the life and budget of one of my students. And then. And then I think about the fact that my students almost always insist on paying when they invite me out for breakfast or dinner or yogurt. Or that they bring me bushels of fruit.

Today was the day I launched my big idea. My main goal is to get my students speaking, and speaking comfortably. The thing is, there's only so much speaking someone can do in a 40-person class, 90-minute class. For the last few weeks I'd been thinking that I'd like to abridge my third year speaking class to 60 minutes and have small group conversation sessions for the last 30 minutes of class. But, I was also worried about deciding on the right amount of time. Too short and it wouldn't be enough to let students come out of their shell. Too long and students might lose confidence if they run out of things to say. I decided on 10 minutes and spent the last ten minutes of class with the bold students who chose to be the first group. We ended up chatting for 20 minutes. I'd call that a success.

This evening Trang took me out to dinner to try -- you guessed it -- something new. Technically, it was a snack, but we made a dinner out of it. Thập cẩm means something like 'many ingredients,' or essentially a mixed platter, and can be used to describe many different dishes. I repeatedly tried to find out the name of this specific dish, but this was all I got. It was a plate of fried tofu, okra, meatballs, fish (meat) balls, little eggs, wonton, and sausage. We had tiny two-prong forks to dip the assortment into a mixture of hoisin sauce, hot sauce, and sweet and sour sauce. There was also a plate of fresh cucumber slices, which were also to be dipped in the sauce. It was good, but it did feel like more of a snack than a meal, so we supplemented with some spring rolls on the way home.